Saturday, February 28, 2009

Friday, February 27, 2009

You like me, you really like me.

So, I just noticed that I have comments. I apologize to those who have commented that I've completely ignored. I wasn't being rude, just ignorant.

Black and White flowers.



Nikon D80, Sigma 70-300 Macro, SB-600 with bounce umbrella camera left fired with CLS.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Jacob, Buffalo Trace.



My friend Jacob at Buffalo Trace Distillery in Frankfort, KY.

Nikon D80, 50mm f/1.8, ISO 1600.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Lexington Center



Lexington Center, downtown Lexington, Kentucky.

Nikon D80. 18-135 @ 20mm.

Hops and Malt



If this looks a lot like yesterday's Bourbon Barrel image, that's because it's supposed to it. Originally, the Bourbon Barrel piece was just a work in itself. However, I decided that it needed a companion piece, something complimentary, and I couldn't think of anything better than beer.

The Bourbon piece was easy. I had that image lying around on my disk for a few months now. It just took a flash of inspiration, and I created the layout in just a few minutes. The beer piece was indescribably harder.

When I think about my photography, two things I think about quite a bit are vision and voice. I hope that everything I do is the work of some vision, and I hope that I'm developing some sort of consistent voice.

The Hops and Malts image was the end of a strange process. I'd constructed a great image in my head of a beer montage. I wanted it to center on Kentucky Ale, a great local product. I ended up with this:

That's not a terrible frame. Sure, the hops and malts are outside of the DOF. The wheat is much too light and distracts attention away from the beer. But I did some things well. Getting the light bottle to have distinct edges on a dark background was tough. It required a consultation with Light: Science and Magic, and some well placed Gaffer's tape, but I made it work, and it was rewarding to see a disappearing bottle transform. It was equally enjoyable to snoot one of my strobes to make sure I had enough light on the label to give it the detail the shot needed.

However, what's clear is that this shot lacks voice and vision. It may be on its way to being technically sufficient, but it's lacking the voice that the barrel shot has. What I had imagined turned out to be the furthest thing from what I needed.

So, frustrated, tired, and hungry, I re-imagined the shot. I decided to strip down all of the nonsense and complication and give a voice to my subject—beer.

So I switched to a macro lens and took lots of shots of hops and malts. I got in close to what beer fundamentally is, and I found the voice that the project needed.

It's a thrill, working out the creative process like this. It's frustrating to see our expectations and best laid plans fall flat on their faces (even though it may be through not fault of our own) and exhilarating to break through the things that may be keeping us from finding our voice.

Monday, February 23, 2009

Bourbon Barrel




Taken with Nikon D80. Raw conversion in Lightroom, Greyscale conversion and layout in Photoshop CS3.

A toe in the water.

If I've learned anything about photography in the last two years, I've learned that it's hard. Harder than it looks. Framing a scene and pressing a shutter is the easy part. Figure how to expose scenes properly isn't too bad. Photoshop isn't even really as scary as it seems. But doing excellent, faithful self-expression? That's the hard stuff.

It's not possible to say "what" photography really is. Really, I guess it's just ones and zeroes that are recorded on a sensor when I push a silver button. But anyone who has ever heard a shutter click knows that it's something more. Those ones and zeroes are a peculiar kind of magic. Beyond the zeroes and ones, I've begun to think that photography is about the desire to constantly learn about the craft and the need to faithfully express a vision.

Those things are what I hope this blog can become—a constant exercise in learning and an attempt to express a vision that will become more solid over time.